Contents of a Dead Woman's Pockets
by Dreamer of All
Summary: But before I can push the oncoming sadness from my mind, his face swarms in my head. Jacob. WARNING: Character death


**Contents of a Dead Woman's Pockets**

I walk along the quiet streets of the little town I now reside in. _China isn't so bad, _I think to myself as I wander.

But before I can push the oncoming sadness from my mind, his face swarms in my head. _Jacob_. My pure, uncorrupted love. The moment I laid eyes on him, all those year ago – _Remember, Nessie, only 9 years have passed. You're only nine years old, even if everyone thinks your 20_ – I knew we were meant for each other. Not in the cliché sense, like I just had some obsessive crush on him. No, more in the sense that we were absolutely meant for each other; molded from the same chunk of clay.

I moved to China for a fresh start, always staying exactly 3,000 miles away from the embraces of my family – _arms holding me down_, I know believed. Alice could see vague blurs, Mom and Dad wouldn't worry, and everyone was safe. Safe from the destruction my depression had caused, safe from my crazy ways.

I fingered the things in my pocket, a random collection of useless and broken thing; things like me. There was my old "Teach Yourself Chinese" CD, long unused, a double switch plate cover, gum wrappers, and an assortment of coins from various countries. How these things came into my possession is anyone's guess; I doubt even I knew anymore.

I knew at that moment that my life had become pathetic, something I couldn't endure any longer. Not without him.

I ran the last few meters down the street to my modest little apartment building, wanting to get it over with before my mind could be changed; before Alice saw and Mom found out, before my entire family descended on me to try and change my whirling mind.

I took out a few sheets of old stationary still bearing the title of "From the Desk of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Black". There was his old pen laying there and I knew he would mind me using it. He would mind _why_ I was, but I would make him see soon enough.

There was a letter to my parents and letters for everyone else. Jasper, Emmett, Alice, Rose, Grandma and Grandpa…but nothing hurt me more than when I picked up the pen for the last time. _Dear Jacob_, the pen seemed to write itself. _My puppy love_.

_This is hard for me. In Forks, the last time I got to be with you, the last time I got to see you…well, it wasn't the happiest of times; I'm sure you can agree. The funeral was beautiful, Jakey, just the way you would have wanted it. The whole pack was there and Seth cried. Everyone cried, actually. But Seth and I sat together and we held each other while our world crashed down on us. It was the perfect mixture of everything you wanted in life: everyone you loved gathered together, no one wanting to rip someone else's throats out, people laughing through their tears as they told stories about the stupid stunts you pulled…_

_But, Jake, of all people you know why this is necessary. It's just not the same without you. That's why I'm coming, wheter you want me to or not (although we both know you want it just as badly as I do.) I'm grabbing your favorite gun, the one Billy got you for your 21__st__ birthday, and I'll be with you soon._

_Love eternally, _

_Your Nessie_

_Reneesme Carlie Cullen_

The pen fell from my grasp as visions flooded my mind (a power I had acquired when I turned 5). My mother, trying to cry tears she couldn't cry. Dady, trying to hold her back from my mangled body. Grandpa, rushing forward to perform CPR even though he knew it was useless. Alice, crumpling to the floor because she thought she had enough time to save me. Jasper, holding everyone together in false contentment. Emmett hold Rose, who looked on in horror.

I wept then, tears splattering Jake's letter. The gun barrel weighed heavy in my mind as I raised it to my temple. No doors crashed open, no frantic family members rushing in.

"Jacob," I whispered with my last breath, just before the bullet entered my skull, "Jacob, I'm coming."

**-- -- --**

**AN: Time for some explaining, huh? Long story short, my Honor's English teacher had us write a short story after reading "Contents of a Dead Man's Pockets". We were given a "pocket" and mine had a Teach Yourself Chinese CD and a double switch plate cover, along wit the sentence "It's just not the same without you." The original draft of this was written in 20 minutes, but I've gone through and edited and added to it.**

**Let's see how you all handle this one!**


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